


Booty Calls

by cvsossong



Series: It Takes a Village [4]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Humor, Superfamily, Superhusbands, Teen Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:58:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cvsossong/pseuds/cvsossong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter joins SHIELD and the Avengers. His first day on the job, and he's assigned his suit. Unfortunately, it's a little tight...</p>
<p>(or the one where the other Marvel superheroes keep staring at Peter's cute butt and flirting with him).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Booty Calls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RvW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RvW/gifts).



“I don’t like it.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Dad, you don’t have to like it. I'm joining the Avengers and that’s final. I’ve already filled out my paperwork and everything with SHIELD.”

Dad slouched further in the couch and flashed a quick glare at Peter. “My only son is joining a highly dangerous group of morons because he went and got himself bit by a spider. There is literally nothing about this scenario that I like, I would like to just state that for the record.”

“You’ll get over it,” Uncle Clint called from the kitchen.

“See? Uncle Clint’s got it figured out.” Peter collapsed on the couch and leaned his head on Dad’s shoulder. “Come on, Dad. We talked about this. You know I'm just going to go out either way; I am _your_ son after all. This way I'm part of the team dynamic instead of running solo.”

“You are not helping, oh idiotic son of mine. Who even gets bit by a radioactive spider, anyways? I mean, what the hell?”

“Dad, we’ve talked about this. For, like, months. It wasn’t even my fault—someone at OsCorp left a cage open.”

“I should sue,” Dad grumbled.

“Oh yeah, because you don’t have enough money yet,” Uncle Clint called again. Dad threw his empty mug at his head. Uncle Clint caught it without turning around and placed it in the sink.

Dad wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders and sighed. “I just worry about you, kiddo,” he said in a softer voice. “It’s bad enough I'm married to one of these idiots. Imagine having both your husband and kid putting themselves in mortal danger every single _fucking_ day.”

“Aw, Dad,” Peter groaned. “Not the guilt trip.”

“Yes the guilt trip. Feel the guilt, boy. Embrace it. That’s what you’re getting for the rest of your life—or until I die from stress.”

“So, like, five years max,” Uncle Clint cut in.

“You. You are out of the will.”

Uncle Clint shrugged. “As long as Coulson’s still in it I can mooch off him. He can be my baby daddy.”

“There are several reasons why that will never work out, Barton,” Agent spoke up from the hallway. He entered the living room and passed a file to Peter. “You need to finish signing those for the R&D department so they can issue you standard armor and gear.”

“No guns,” Dad spoke up.

“But Dad!”

“No. Guns.”

Peter pouted. “Fine. I’ll stick to the webs.” He turned to grin at Uncle Clint. “Get it? Stick? To the webs?”

“You’re hilarious, kid.” Uncle Clint sat in the armchair and clicked the TV over to the football game.

“I thought it was pretty funny,” Agent whispered to Peter as he passed and scooted into the armchair with Uncle Clint gracefully. Peter grinned.

“I just don’t see why you can’t be a normal high school kid that turns into a normal college kid and goes on to live a normal, nondescript life far, far away from this joke of a family,” Dad muttered.

“His two dads are leaders of a team of superheroes. One of them is from the 1940s. His aunt is a former Russian spy. His uncle turns into the Jolly Green Giant. Should I go on?” Uncle Clint snorted and leaned into Agent’s side. “Face it, Stark. The kid was doomed from the start.”

“Let me dream, damn it,” Dad grouched.

Peter decided to ignore his father’s ramblings and opened the file instead. He grabbed a pen from the table and signed a few of the lines, not bothering to do more than glance at the fine print. The files and paperwork he’d had to sign over the past few weeks could crush mountains, and it was exhausting.

He heard the elevator ding and turned to smile at his other dad. Pop had been supportive of him joining the Avengers team since Peter had announced to them that he’d been bitten by a radioactive spider while on a field trip and oh by the way, he could climb walls and shit. He’d been the first to take Peter’s side on the matter, and hadn’t let up on Dad until he’d agreed to the idea.

His pop was pretty great.

“Steve. Darling. Angel of my life. What can I do to get you on my side over this matter?” Dad leaned his head over the back of the couch and pouted at Pop. “What happened to ‘for better or for worse’?”

Pop smiled and kissed Dad’s forehead. “What happened to ‘Peter is the number one priority’?”

“Yeah, for like nap time and shit. This is… this is… what is this? I can’t even think of an adjective to describe how horrendous this whole idea is.”

“Horrendous was a good one,” Clint supplied.

“Thank you. This is horrendous.”

Pop glanced over Dad’s head and rolled his eyes at Peter. Peter grinned and patted Dad’s knee.

“Cheer up. First day on the job, you’ll forget all about me.”

“You bite your fucking tongue, punk,” Dad glared at him.

Clint grinned and bounced out of the chair. “Wait, this is priceless, hold on, where the hell’s that swear jar?”

\--------------------

Peter cocked an eyebrow and rubbed the suit’s fabric between his fingers. “Are you sure this is my suit?” he asked.

The scientist grinned and nodded excitedly. “It’s top of the line fabric, built to withstand almost any weather conditions and to hold in heat for cold temperature situations while also breathable in hot weather climates. It’s reinforced against knives and other sharp objects, and even though it’s not quite bulletproof it’ll provide some protection.”

“No, I get that, and that’s great. It just… it’s kind of tight. And colorful.” Honestly, Peter felt like a bird of paradise in the thing. Even worse, it wore like a second skin—it showed _everything._

“We needed it to be tight and flexible for your high- flying stunts, as well as any hand- to- hand combat you might face. As for the colors, we just went with what was written on your form.”

“What form?” The man handed him a crumpled paper and Peter grimaced at the handwritten note scrawled at the bottom. Uncle Clint was such an asshole.

Peter looked in the mirror again and turned sideways a bit. Lucky for him, he managed to pull the colors off. Plus, he’d be wearing a mask. And the suit _did_ look good on him.

“Alright, I’ll give it a shot,” he said finally. The scientist beamed and scurried around, collecting the other parts of his... armor. He pulled the boots and gloves on and tucked the mask into the waistband of his tights. Sparing another glance in the mirror, Peter took a deep breath and made his final adjustments. “Well,” he muttered to himself. “At least Dad’ll never be able to lose me in a crowd.”

Peter squared his shoulders as he walked towards the SHIELD conference room. He knew that Uncle Clint would laugh at him over the colors, and Aunt Tash would probably ruffle his hair and say that he looked cute or something embarrassing like that. If he was going to be subjected to torture over the suit, he might as well flaunt it while he could.

A woman in a brisk pantsuit walked past him and raised an eyebrow as he passed. He could feel her eyes watching him and bit his lower lip nervously. Now that he’d noticed, several of the SHIELD agents were watching him walk. Did he really look _that_ ridiculous in the suit?

“Hey there, handsome,” a sultry voice crooned from the nearest cubicle. Peter whirled and blushed when the woman inside winked at him and waggled her fingers in greeting. He swallowed hard and picked up his pace to the conference room.

As expected, Uncle Clint burst out laughing when Peter entered the room. “Oh shit, I didn’t think they’d actually do it!” he gasped out.

“What the hell, Uncle Clint?” Peter groaned. “Do you have any idea how many people were staring at me on the way here? I look ridiculous!”

“Hey, if I have to wear a damn purple vest, your ass can squeeze into that costume and deal with it. We all have to suffer for our art, kid.”

Peter slumped into a chair and rubbed his temples. “Why does Agent deal with you again?”

“Lots and lots of sex. You’ll figure it out someday, don’t worry.”

Dad walked in and groaned when he saw Peter’s suit. “You have got to be kidding me. All the colors in the spectrum of the universe and you pick those?”

“I didn’t pick them!” Peter protested. “Uncle Clint put it on the form at the last minute, I swear!”

Dad turned his glare to Uncle Clint. “Out of the will.”

“How many times can you strike someone from a will, exactly?” Uncle Clint kicked his feet up on the table and leaned back with a smirk.

“You seem determined to find out. At some point I'm just going to say ‘fuck it’ and throw you out of my damn tower.”

“You love me.”

“Fuck you.”

“What the hell is Peter wearing?” Aunt Tash asked over Dad’s shoulder.

Peter banged his head against the table. Fuck Uncle Clint.

\--------------------

“Looking damn good, Parker!” Peter blushed as Billy and Teddy walked by him in the gym. Teddy saluted and Billy winked and nudged Peter’s shoulder.

“Okay, that’s seriously like the fifth time that’s happened,” Peter heard Uncle Clint mutter. “What the hell is going on?”

“You can’t tell?” Aunt Tash spoke up coolly from her perch on Uncle Bucky’s chest. She’d pinned him about ten minutes ago while they were sparring and was refusing to move until he apologized for calling her boots ugly.

“That would be why we asked, Tash,” Uncle Bucky wheezed from under her. He’d given up on getting out from underneath her and was playing Pac Man on his phone. She pushed a heel into his collarbone and he winced.

“It’s the suit. Because it’s so… tight.” Aunt Tash nodded towards Peter’s tights and raised an eyebrow. “It would seem that the younger agents are enjoying the view. Especially the male ones.”

Dad groaned from the boxing ring. He and Thor had been sparring in the suit, and Dad ducked to avoid a swing from Mjolnir. “Are you kidding me? The damn agents are _checking out_ my son?!”

“We don’t know that for certain, Tony,” Pop replied.

“Teddy and Billy always check people out if they think they’re attractive, Steve! Besides, Johnny called him ‘hot stuff’ an hour ago and God only knows what Tommy Shepherd meant by his little fucking whistle.” Dad popped the faceplate back and leaned forward against the ropes. “It’s a fucking miracle that Wade hasn’t popped down from the ceiling vents and snatched him up yet.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Peter protested. He liked Wade well enough, even though he could be a real pain in the ass sometimes. Okay, most of the time.

“Like hell he wouldn’t. This is something out of my worst nightmares. Worse than that. This is something so bad I haven’t even _had_ nightmares about it yet. I can see it now,” Dad threw up his hands. “The Avengers are called in to get rid of a hoard of evil scientists and they all fall over from nosebleeds because my teenage son is swinging about in skintight panties.”

“Those are definitely not panties. Trust me,” Uncle Clint said. Peter grimaced.

“Clint, I could have gone my whole life without hearing that. My whole life, you hear me?” Dad bit back.

Wade chose to saunter in at that moment, whistling to himself and swinging his sword around carelessly. He nodded to Peter as he passed, then stopped and backed up slowly, grinning. “Did I do something good?” he asked, eyeing Peter unabashedly. “I must have done something very, very good.”

“One more word, Wilson, and I’ll shove my repulsors so far up your ass your tonsils will glow blue,” Dad glared.

Wade held up his hands. “Easy, Optimus Prime. Nothing wrong with a compliment among friends, right?”

“Get the hell out of here, Wilson.”

Wade smirked and pulled his mask down over his face. “I’m going, I'm going.” As he headed out, Peter caught his eye and Wade made a ‘call me’ sign with his hands. Peter groaned and buried his head in his hands.

“Clint, I want you to know I blame you entirely for this,” Dad muttered.

“What the hell did I do? I just picked the color scheme.”

“I’m sure you affected this whole thing some way or another. And until you can prove otherwise, this is your fault.”

Thor stood next to Dad and glanced over in Peter’s direction. “I am confused. Peter is wearing a fine outfit for his superhero endeavors with us. Lady Sif herself has an armor very similar in design to it.”

Peter’s life was so fucked up.

**Author's Note:**

> So my internet's been wonky, so I'm adding all the fics I can while I still have it!!
> 
> Thanks to RvW for the awesome prompt!
> 
> Got an idea for a fic? A prompt you'd like to see? Either leave a comment on this fic OR go to my [tumblr ask box](http://halfway-punk-rock.tumblr.com/ask) and leave it for me! I'd love to hear them!!!


End file.
